


accessory after the fact

by noviilune



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Personas (Persona Series), Corpses, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, No P5R spoilers, Partners in Crime, helping your crush hide a body, just a casual murder date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noviilune/pseuds/noviilune
Summary: So here he was, in his guardian’s truck that he had borrowed without permission, on the highway at two in the morning, riding shotgun next to Tokyo’s perfect golden boy detective prince as they munched on cheap snacks and shared a warm water bottle, enjoying what was hopefully the world’s weirdest first date with a corpse in the backseat and no regrets.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 386





	accessory after the fact

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a twitter thread by @honey_dots  
> i haven't finished Royal yet so there are no spoilers here!

Despite having a poster of her in his bedroom, Akira didn't listen to Risette very often. That would probably have to change soon, though, because her song currently playing through the car radio was pretty damn catchy. Akira tapped his fingers on the car door to the beat, turning the radio up a couple notches to better hear the cheerful lyrics. 

It really only added to the bizarreness of this entire situation. 

Next to him, Akechi snagged another pocky stick from the box wedged in the cupholder. The bruise on his left cheek had definitely gotten worse, and the ice pack Akira grabbed for him had long since melted. It sat in the cupholder next to the pocky, warm and shapeless, completely useless. It had helped for a little bit, at least. Maybe if Akira had thought to bring a cooler, he could’ve packed a backup. He could’ve fit more snacks in there too, actual cold drinks instead of the suspect water bottle Akira had found rolling around the floor of the back seat that he was sharing with Akechi. 

It was sort of like a date. A _very_ strange date, one where Akira had to wear gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints anywhere and flee Tokyo under the cover of darkness without telling anyone. 

Akechi hadn’t told him the full story, and Akira knew better than to pry. That was probably why he called Akira in the first place, barely a crack in his pleasant facade, to ask for his help in such a dire situation. He trusted Akira enough to know he wouldn’t ask too many questions, wouldn’t rat him out, and would most likely willingly implicate himself in numerous crimes. And, well, Akira was ride-or-die for all of his friends to begin with, but he would’ve gone to hell and back for the pretty detective if he so much as asked. 

So here he was, in his guardian’s truck that he had borrowed without permission, on the highway at two in the morning, riding shotgun next to Tokyo’s perfect golden boy detective prince as they munched on cheap snacks and shared a warm water bottle, enjoying what was hopefully the world’s weirdest first date with a corpse in the backseat and no regrets. 

Logically, Akira knew it took more than a few hours for a body to start to smell of decay, but he kept imagining that he had caught a whiff of something unpleasant. Of course, all he could really smell was Sojiro’s featherman-themed mint air freshener Futaba had bought him a few weeks ago, and by this point in their trip it barely smelled like anything. There was also the fact that Akechi had stuffed the body into a large suitcase, most likely trapping any potential odors in with it, but Akira’s thoughts just kept drifting back to it. Akechi hadn’t wanted to put the suitcase in the truck’s bed for fear it would fall out during transport, and Akira had briefly argued with him before discovering that the tailgate was broken and wouldn’t latch properly, so the detective’s concerns were actually quite plausible. God, did Sojiro own _anything_ that wasn’t broken? Akira made a mental note to stop giving his friends so many free drinks. 

“Did you see the road sign?” Akira asked, snagging another pocky stick. “We’re officially in Inaba now.”

“Took us long enough,” Akechi grumbled. 

It was strange for Akira to be back in his hometown after spending several months in Tokyo. Akechi had picked it because it was fairly rural, far enough away from Tokyo that the police wouldn’t think to look for a body there, and Akira knew it well enough he could pick a seldom-traversed section of the town, perfect to hide something that would hopefully never be found. They hadn’t taken their phones- Akechi was concerned they could be tracked- so Akira had jotted down a list of directions from Google Maps in a notebook and found an ancient map in Sojiro’s glove compartment, and they made do with that. They only took a couple wrong turns, extending their impromptu road trip by a half hour at most while they bickered over the map. Hopefully they would be back before sunrise. 

He directed Akechi to the edge of the flood plains, right where the woods started, and they shut off the car. For a moment, neither boy moved, then Akechi swung his door open and jumped out without a word. Akira quickly followed suit, pulling on a pair of red leather gloves. They had been a gift from Ann, though she probably hadn’t intended them to be used for this purpose. 

“Shovels or suitcase?” Akechi asked, opening the back door. 

“Suitcase,” Akira said, already hauling it out of the car. 

Akechi rolled his eyes. “Showoff,” he said. Akira grinned to himself as Akechi grabbed the shovels from the floor. It was by pure luck that Akira remembered seeing gardening equipment in Leblanc’s attic, and even luckier that he had managed to track them down. 

Rolling suitcases were not designed for outdoor use, as Akira quickly discovered. The wheels continually caught on roots and stones and bumped around on the uneven ground. The suitcase was definitely too heavy to carry for longer than a couple minutes and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Akechi, so Akira just kept pulling until they came to a small clearing.

“Well,” he said, grabbing a shovel from Akechi, “let’s get to work.”

Akira was discovering that TV lied about a lot of things. Shovelling was hard work, even with both boys giving it their full effort, and Akira was thankful he didn’t try to show off too much by carrying the suitcase. If he had, between that and the shovelling his arms would have been noodles for days. Finally, after what felt like hours, they managed to dig a fairly decent shallow grave. 

Akira stuck his shovel firmly in the dirt and leaned against it. “So,” he started, “uh, do we bury it in the suitcase, or...?”

Akechi paused, hand coming to rest on his chin as he considered. “We’d have to dispose of the suitcase separately if we take him out, but he’ll probably decompose faster…”

“Let’s just toss it off a bridge.”

“...That could work.”

“Police wouldn’t go looking for DNA evidence in a random suitcase, right?”

“Most likely not,” Akechi said. “Even if they do fish it out and test it for some reason, our fingerprints aren’t on it and the connection would be tough to make. The suitcase came from his apartment. No one saw you leave the building with it, right?”

“No. I mean, there were people on the train, but it’s not that weird to see someone on a train with a suitcase.”

“And it’s not an uncommon design, thousands of people probably have the same suitcase,” Akechi finished with a nod. 

“Then it’s decided,” Akira said and pulled the suitcase over to the hole, laying it down on the ground to open it. He hesitated for a second, bravado fading as the reality of the situation began to catch up to him. He jumped a bit as Akechi rested his gloved hands over Akira’s own. 

“I’ll do it,” he said, “you don’t have to look.”

“It’s a two person job,” Akira said. 

Akechi studied his face for a moment, the moon casting a pale light on his soft features. His sharp garnet eyes pierced Akira’s soul while the other boy held his breath, their hands still touching on the suitcase. Even like this, sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, hair messily tugged into a ponytail, bruise already turning purple on his cheek, Akechi Goro was beautiful. 

“If you’re sure,” Akechi said, breaking the strange tension between them, his gaze flicking down as he began to unzip the suitcase. 

Akechi had already stuffed the body into the suitcase by the time Akira showed up, so Akira’s first look at the man in the suitcase was accompanied by the loud metallic sound of a zipper and a stench of alcohol. The man was almost too big to fit in the suitcase, Akechi had probably forced it shut. The man was bald, well-dressed, and seemed vaguely familiar. There was a large discolored indent on the side of his head, and Akira quickly averted his eyes. 

“You look like you’re gonna hurl,” Akechi commented. 

“Smells like booze.”

Akechi snorted a laugh. “The dead body doesn’t phase you, but the smell of wine makes you sick?”

“Well, usually I prefer to pair my wine with cheddar rather than a corpse.”

Akechi laughed again, and Akira found himself chuckling at his own poor joke as well. Thankfully, Akechi seemed to have an appreciation for inappropriately timed jokes, and the uneasy feeling in Akira’s stomach subsided once more. 

“Ready?” Akechi asked once they had both stopped snickering. 

“Whenever you are.” 

Together, the two boys grabbed the bottom corners of the suitcase and tipped it into the shallow grave, sending the body tumbling inside. If Akechi noticed Akira glance away again, he didn’t say anything. 

Filling in the hole took significantly less time than it had taken to dig it in the first place. Akechi was extremely particular about how they did it, making sure the makeshift grave was level with the rest of the ground, scattering dried leaves over the upturned dirt for good measure. They finished quickly, bathed in pale moonlight, nothing but the sound of cicadas, shovels, and their own footsteps. 

“You good?” Akira asked as Akechi rested his shovel against the ground, looking down at the well-hidden grave. The emotion on his face was indecipherable. 

“Thank you,” he said, “for… helping. I was afraid you’d back out.”

“Anytime.”

“I’m a bit concerned with how willing you are to blindly trust me.” 

Akira took an exaggerated bow and grabbed Akechi’s shovel, slinging them both over his shoulder. “I’m a man of many talents, my dear. Now let’s get the hell out of here.” 

Akira had already taken a good five steps before he realized Akechi hadn’t moved. He looked over his shoulder curiously to see Akechi standing in front of the makeshift grave, hands folded in front of him. Akira waited, giving him however much time he needed to find some sort of closure. 

After a moment, Akechi unclasped his hands and turned back to face Akira. “Boss’ll get mad if the truck is still gone in the morning, right?” he said. 

“For sure. I’d prefer to avoid his wrath, if possible,” Akira said with a half-smile that Akechi readily returned. 

“Let’s get going then,” Akechi said, grabbing the now empty suitcase with his right hand, and the two of them began their walk back to the truck. “We probably should’ve saved more of that water.”

“I’ll be sure to pack some extras next time.”

Akechi laughed, and Akira did his best to conceal his delight when Akechi slid his hand into Akira’s own and laced their fingers together. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not entirely happy with this but i'm publishing it anyway because i really need to stop being a perfectionist  
> twitter @noviilune


End file.
